


Ficlet: Thirty Years of Photographs

by Jacqueline Albright-Beckett (xaandria)



Series: Between The Lines [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Growing Old, M/M, human!Cas, old age death, old married hunters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8494105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaandria/pseuds/Jacqueline%20Albright-Beckett





	

Dean’s shoulder stiffens when bad weather is coming; sometimes it’s so bad he doesn’t do much other than sit on a kitchen chair - anything softer hurts his back - and roll it on occasion. Really, when Castiel stops to consider it, Dean’s entire body probably aches when the weather changes, and the shoulder is just something he can isolate from everything else. It’s no use limping when both knees hurt, after all.

It sometimes surprises Castiel, because he didn’t see the changes happening - but when he compares Dean now to the Dean of thirty years ago, it is startling. His hair is a mosaic of gray peppered with his original dark brown; there is a decided slump to his posture; even his voice has aged, though only to become richer and warmer with time. And when Castiel looks in the mirror, he’s sometimes surprised to see the face looking back at him, as well. Growing old was not something he’d ever considered.

There is a pressure front moving in this morning. Castiel can tell as soon as Dean shifts and groans slightly as he reaches for the glasses on the bedside table. “Damn shoulder.”

“Wimp.” Castiel reaches over to press a thumb to Dean’s aching muscles, the same way Dean used to do for him, long ago when his shoulders ached from holding wings that were no longer there. “You should have taken better care of yourself.”

Dean smirks. “Didn’t think I’d live this long.” He winces and rolls his shoulder away. Castiel relents; sometimes the stiffness won’t yield to anything but time.

It doesn’t yield, this time. The ache spreads down Dean’s left arm throughout the day, despite the mild spring outside. And even though all the television commercials for aspirin say that it saves lives, it fails today.

Castiel had never considered growing old, but he’d accepted it as a thing that would happen. Perhaps in time he’d accept growing old alone, with only thirty years of photographs to remind him of who he’d intended to grow old with.


End file.
